


Side Effects May Include

by honeysucklepink



Category: Glee
Genre: 5+1 Things, Barebacking, Canonical Character Death - Finn Hudson, Gen, Horrible Christmas puns in the context of porn, M/M, Self-Medication, Sex Toys, angst and crack and smut oh my!, sex under the influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysucklepink/pseuds/honeysucklepink
Summary: Five times Kurt took Ambien (and the resulting stories his friends tell), and one time he didn't need to. A Klaine Advent 2018 adventure!





	1. Rachel's Story

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Klaine Advent 2018 Fic! This year will be a bit different. I will be posting every four days. Since there are TWO sets of words this year, I am incorporating them in different ways:
> 
> 1) The regular, alphabetized words will be incorporated somewhat-in-order, according to each chapter. For example, today's opening chapter has Athlete, Bury, Camera, and Deputy; the second chapter will have words E-H, etc.  
> 2) The holiday-themed words will be scattered throughout, simply on where they fit best (or where I coincidentally already had them--I had no peeks I swear!) so words like Cinnamon, Snowman, etc. may not pop up until later.
> 
> This sort of takes place during the episodes 100 and New Directions, with flashbacks to previous episodes. Finally...not every chapter will have a purely Klaine focus, as this is more about Kurt and his experiences on Ambien. But even then Blaine will be right there, hovering over your shoulder, like a warm breeze (and the later chapters definitely are Klaine-centric). And this fic is neither an endorsement nor a warning about Ambien and other sleep aids, but seriously y'all, talk to your doctor, and if a drug makes you do weird shit and not remember, maybe don't take it?
> 
> Prompt at the bottom, and away we go!

  


“Can I share a story? I feel like we all have a good Kurt Ambien story,” Santana started.

Kurt groaned. “God, do we have to do this?” Glee club members past and present were gathered in the choir room, twiddling their thumbs and passing the time while Mr. Schue was still meeting with Coach Sylvester over their ultimate fate. Kurt didn’t have a stake in any of this except for nostalgia; neither did Blaine for that matter. But there were several underclassmen in their midst for whom, like him, Glee had been a lifesaver.

But instead Santana decided, once again, that now would be a great time to tell embarrassing stories about everyone, present company included.

“Wait,” Artie asked. “Kurt, when did you start taking Ambien?”

There was an awkward pause before Rachel spoke up. “Kurt, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. With what you were going through it’s understandable.” Kurt simply nodded, as if giving Rachel permission, so she continued.

“It was last fall, after, um…” She looked tentatively at Blaine. “After, well, everyone broke up.”

_“Kurt? Are you getting up?”_

_Rachel poked her head behind the curtain that marked off Kurt’s bedroom in the loft. He was laying in bed, still wearing the same dark lounge pants and long-sleeved shirt from the day before. His eyes red-rimmed, his hair limp, he stared at the rafters. He had been like this the entire weekend._

_When Finn left..._ that _morning, followed by Blaine, she and Kurt cried and ate ice cream and watched Turner Classic Movies until Monday, when they had to somehow go back to the real world. Rachel had NYADA, Kurt had Vogue, and at night they had each other to commiserate with. But Rachel also had Brody, frankly, leaving Kurt to his own devices. That Friday, she came home late; “Well I just wasted a good hour at the Apple store trying to get the camera on my phone to work, and then Brody had a late rehearsal, so I hope you have something yummy for dinner planned cause I’m--” She turned to find Kurt sitting motionlessly on the sofa, staring at a box with a Lima, Ohio postmark._

_“It’s from Blaine,” Kurt said, in a near-dead monotone. Nothing followed after that._

_Rachel bent down, took the box from his lap, and shook it. “Is it a book? DVDs?” She sat down and held him. After a few moments, she asked, “Do you want me to send it back?”_

_Kurt just nodded, got up, and went back to his room. Rachel wrote “Return to Sender” on the box and took it back down to the post office. When she returned she ordered pizza for them both; after it arrived, she went to check on Kurt. “I ordered pizza. Do you want any?”_

_“Maybe later,” Kurt mumbled from his bed._

_Now it was Sunday, and Rachel, as much as she tried to understand, had enough. She sat on the corner of his bed._

_“Sweetie, have you even actually slept?” she asked. “I haven’t heard one snore from behind this curtain. Your eyes tell me no, and not even in a poetic way, but in a literal open-all-night way.”_

_“I can’t,” Kurt says. “Everytime I close my eyes, I see him. I see him serenading me, kissing me, touching me for the first time. But then I see him that night, in the park, that song he sang, like a confession, the worst kind. And I see him kissing and touching this amorphous person...no face, no anything, just knowing it’s not me.”_

_“You can’t go back to Vogue like this,” Rachel says. “Okay, I am officially deputizing myself as your personal post-break-up coach. I’m going to go to the student health center at NYADA. They have weekend hours. And I’m just going to tell them I’ve been having insomnia and get a prescription.”_

_“Rachel I can’t ask you to do that.”_

_“You aren’t asking, I’m volunteering, since I know your internship didn’t come with health benefits. Now do me a favor and get in the shower, you smell like one of those sweaty athletes in my stunts class. Then you can try to eat some leftover pizza while I run get this.”_

_That evening Rachel returned with a month’s prescription for Ambien and a copy of_ The Notebook. _“I know, you and Blaine watched it together,” Rachel said to Kurt’s protests. “But you aren’t going to get over him by avoiding every piece of popular culture you ever shared. You know how much REO Speedwagon I’ve been listening to the past week on my iPod? You are going to bury yourself in pop princesses and Nicholas Sparks movies until it doesn’t hurt anymore.”_

_Kurt took a pill and washed it down with a bottle of water, and he and Rachel settled in. They watched Noah and Allie fall in love and torn apart, and Kurt was asleep by the time Allie’s mother gave her the letters Noah had written. Rachel draped a throw over his sleeping form on the sofa and returned to her room._

_It was the first real sleep Kurt had gotten in a week._


	2. Santana's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Exclude, Feed, Gradual, House + bonus Candle, Ribbon, Light

As Rachel finished her story, Kurt looked up and reached for her hand. “I eventually got my own prescription, once I was enrolled at NYADA and could take advantage of Student Health Services. But Rachel really pulled through for me those first few months. I don’t think I ever properly thanked you.”

Santana rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated yawn. “Boooo-ring! What do you want, Rach, a blue ribbon?”

“But wait,” Ryder asked. “I heard that Ambien makes you do crazy stuff.”

“It does,” Kitty said. “My brother was on it in college. He came home for Christmas one year, and in the middle of the night, he got up and turned on every faucet in the house. I’m surprised we didn’t wet ourselves from all the running water. We woke up to soggy carpets and warped Pergo. He didn’t even remember the next morning.”

“Well, Kurt definitely had a penchant for sleep-shopping, that’s for sure,” Santana purred. “Like the time he got a boyfriend pillow and named it Bruce.”

Marley looked confused. “I’m sorry, a boyfriend pillow? Is that like getting a pillowcase with a guy’s face on it or something?”

Kurt was embarrassed, but not terribly so. “No, it’s sort of like a body pillow. It has an...appendage, I guess?” He made a motion with his arm. “So that it feels like there’s an arm around you while you sleep. And you’re one to talk Santana, I didn’t see you complain when I got you one.”

“That’s very true,” Santana said. “But there are some other purchases you made that I am very happy you excluded us from sharing.”

_ “Kurt! Where’s the fuse box in this place?” Santana was stumbling in the dark trying to use the light from her cell phone to get around; she had just started a Skype call with Brittany when the lights suddenly went out, and with it the wi-fi. _

_ “Don’t bother,” Kurt called out from the window. “It’s not just us; looks like the power is out over the whole block.” _

_ “Seriously? There’s not even a storm, it’s been hot all day!” Santana was determined to find a light source better than her phone, which was already dangerously low on battery. And without fans or air conditioning she was sweating. It was starting to chafe her underboob. _

_ Kurt opened the window, but it didn’t offer much relief. “I think that’s the problem. There’s a heat wave, so everyone’s been running their AC at full blast. It probably overloaded the system and blew a transformer or something.” _

_ “Well at least I can still get data on my...damnit!” Santana’s phone chose that moment to go dead. “Do you have  _ _candles_ _ , a flashlight, something?” _

_ “Check the drawers in the kitchen, just don’t go in my room.” _

_ Which is exactly where she went. Well, after checking Rachel’s room, which only held incense sticks and a dead lighter. She snuck through Kurt’s curtain, immediately stubbing her toe on his bed frame, forcing her to muffle a curse that threatened to escape her mouth. She  _ _gradually_ _ found her way around the edge of the bed until she reached his nightstand. She felt around the bottom drawer until… _

_ “Ha-ha, jackpot!” she whispered, her hand around the case of what felt like a pretty industrial-weight flashlight. She felt around the base for the button with her thumb, but couldn’t find it. Maybe it’s one of those you twist? She tried twisting, but no luck. Maybe it was out of batteries? She started to screw off the cap. “Hey Kurt, your flashlight’s out of batteries!” _

_ “I don’t have a...oh my God Santana get out of my room!” Kurt shouted, an “ow!” following right after as he loudly ran into a piece of furniture. _

_ Several things then happened at once. Kurt pulled the curtain away. Santana got the cap off. The lights came back on. And Santana looked down at where the light bulb of a flashlight would be, and instead was looking at a realistic, silicone asshole. _

_ “Oh...OH! OH MY GOD!  _ OH MY GOD!” _ Santana shrieked and recoiled in horror, tossing the... _ thing _ across the bed at Kurt, who fumbled it in his hands before recovering and catching it. _

_ After a... _ very _ long shower in which she rubbed her skin raw, she sat on the extreme far opposite end of the couch from Kurt. Neither dared to look one another in the eye. _

_ Kurt was still red,  _ not _ from a shower. “It’s, um, called a ‘fleshlight,’” he said, over pronouncing the “flesh” part. “Because, you know…” _

_ “I know what a fleshlight is thank you very much, don’t need to know more.” _

_ But they weren’t done with this, she guessed. “That fucking Ambien,” Kurt continued. “I should just turn off the wi-fi when I take it, because I buy stupid things online. Like that boyfriend pillow. I got that after Christmas because I just missed being held, you know?” Santana nodded. “I mean, you know what happened between me and Blaine Valentine’s Day. It was one thing to feel held and cherished, but...God I didn’t realize I missed  _ sex _ that much. I think I realized for the first time why Blaine did what he did. Before that night I couldn’t understand why he would look for that elsewhere, until he told me how awful he felt after. I guess he just needed to know. Anyway, we get back from Lima, and I go back to taking Ambien, and I guess my subconscious sleep-shopper...not to mention my “suggested purchases”  _ _feed_ _ on Amazon... was telling me I needed more than just cuddling.” _

_ “What about Adam?” _

_ “I tried, but I would just freeze up. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. I’m not ready to get back together with Blaine, but I just can’t see myself doing it with someone else, either. Doing it with some... _ thing _ , on the other hand…” _

_ “ _ God _ , Kurt, are you trying to traumatize me?” _

_ “Oh shut up, speaking of hotel rooms don’t think we didn't hear you and Quinn going at it. There’s not enough brain bleach.” _

_ Santana rubbed her temples. “Just...please don’t tell me you named it Bruce, too.” _

_ Kurt scoffed. “Of course not.” _

Back in the choir room, no one knew where to look. Some looked at Kurt, some looked at Santana, some tried not to look  _ anyone _ in the eye. Poor Marley looked like her entire innocence had been sullied.

Kurt stared daggers at Santana. “I hate you, you know.”

Blaine leaned in to him and whispered. “Um, you didn’t name it ‘Blaine,’ did you? Because that would make that time we decided to…”

“Not the time, honey.”


	3. Sam's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Incident, Joke, Kidnap, Language + bonus Cinnamon, Star, Eggnog.
> 
> Also...I'm so, so sorry.

It was at that moment that Sam arrived, and everyone’s attention shifted. ‘Finally!” Tina asked over the commotion. “We thought Coach Sue had kidnapped you! Did you hear anything?”

“Only that apparently April Rhodes is completely broke. She can’t fund the auditorium anymore. They were still talking when I had to pee, then I got lost trying to get back to Sue’s office so I just came back here. What did I miss?”

“Just way too much information about Hummel’s bedroom habits,” Kitty said.

“We started trading Lady Hummel Ambien stories,” Santana clarified. “Hell, you lived with his family, I know you got some good ones.”

Sam thought for a second. “I don’t know...wait! I do have one but I don’t know if you could call it ‘good.’”

_ The day of Finn’s funeral, it was almost an insultingly beautiful day. There were blue skies, the occasional fluffy white cloud, a light breeze, and the perfect temperature...it was like God was playing some kind of cruel  _ _joke_ _ on the day they had to eulogize and bury a friend, a son, a teacher, a surrogate brother-in-arms.  _

_ Mr. Schue had announced that there would be more of an “official” Glee Club memorial in a few weeks, but for now it was the sad, inevitable work of a family funeral, and Sam just tried to stay out of the way. Kurt came home and took charge of much of it...calling relatives, dealing with the funeral home, picking a casket, flowers, writing the obituary, and receiving visitors. And there was the food.  _ So _ many casseroles... they had to go purchase coolers to hold it all, and then donated a lot of it to the homeless shelter where Sam had gotten them to volunteer the year before. _

_ Sam was in limbo...a guest of the Hudmels still, but without the guy who invited him to stay in the first place. Finn’s room was untouched (it felt wrong to stay in there now), and Kurt was back in his old bedroom. Blaine had left a few hours before, and Sam had been asleep on the couch for an hour when he was awakened by the scent of something akin to burning  _ _eggnog_ _. _

_ Sam stumbled into the kitchen, where the smell was coming from. There he found Kurt, standing over the stove where a saucepan was boiling over, the liquid inside sizzling on the eye as it splashed over. Kurt didn’t even look awake; his eyes were half-shut and he looked like he was about to fall over. _

_ Sam acted fast, running toward Kurt, putting his arms around him and pulling him away in a flash. As Kurt jerked his head up with a “huh?” Sam reached to turn the stove off and pulled the saucepan over to a cold eye. _

_ “Wha...what happened?” Kurt said, blinking himself awake. “Why am I down here? What’s that burning smell?” _

_ Sam led Kurt over to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. “I think it was milk? Kurt you were down here boiling milk, but it’s like you were, I dunno, sleepwalking. Sleep-cooking? What do you remember?” _

_ Kurt shook his head, as if to clear cobwebs. “I must have been dreaming. No, I was remembering.” He paused, and sniffled a little. “The last time Finn and I really talked. God I’m glad Dad rescheduled my flight back for the next day.” Kurt pulled his foot up on the seat of the chair and rested his chin on his knee. “It was right after Blaine proposed at Dalton. I mean Dad told me why he couldn’t be there, he had an exam that the foreign  _ _languages_ _ professor wouldn’t let him make up for  _ any _ reason. He got in really late that night and knocked on my door, asking if I’d make him some warm milk. I think he just wanted to hear me gush all about the engagement, the choirs and all the rest. So I got out the saucepan and the  _ _cinnamon_ _ , and we just talked all night. You know, it was so funny because  _ I _ had been the one calling him and Rachel crazy for wanting to get married so young, and here I was, saying yes to my senior-in-high-school boyfriend who I had only been back with a few days.  _ Didn’t that make me a hypocrite? _ I asked him.” _

_ “So what did he say?” _

_“That he thought Blaine and I were different. He said,_ ‘I’m not sure where Rachel and I will end up, but I know for certain that she’s meant to be a star. And as sure as I am of that, I’m sure you and Blaine are meant to be.’ _” Kurt looked over at the pan still steaming. “Was...was someone cooking something?”_

_ “Yeah,  _ you  _ were, remember?” Sam confirmed. “You were asleep standing up over the stove. You’re lucky you didn’t burn the house down.” _

_ Kurt sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “Damn that Ambien. I hadn’t needed it as much since Blaine and I got back together, but then I got the call about Finn, and I’ve been running myself ragged with funeral plans and dealing with Rachel, and I just wanted to  _ sleep _.” He pressed his palms against his face, the heels of his hands staving off the tears that threatened to burst from his eyes. “God Sam I almost burned the house down with you all in it!” At that the damn holding Kurt’s tears back released, and Sam was there, his arms around Kurt’s waist as he collapsed and cried. _

_ “Hey, it’s okay, you didn’t, the house is fine, Burt and Carole are upstairs...just let it out. You want me to call Blaine? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind coming over.” _

_ Kurt sniffed and wiped his cheeks. “No, no it’s late. I’ll see him in the morning. But thank you Sam. Sometimes you just need someone to hold you so you can let it out.” _

_ “No problem, anytime,” Sam smiled sadly. “I might need to cry on your shoulder in the next day or two.” He stood up and pointed to the stove. “You want me to clean up?” _

_ “No, I’ll take care of it tomorrow. I’m just going to go to bed.” _

_ “No Ambien?” _

_ “No...no, I think I’ll try to sleep with a clearer head tonight.” _

“And I went to bed, and the next morning the kitchen was all clean,” Sam finished. “Probably cleaner than it had been in weeks.” The choir room had grown somber, remembering their fallen leader. 

“Haven’t thought about that incident in a while,” Kurt murmured. “I never could get back to sleep, so I just...stayed up and cleaned.”

Kurt was all of a sudden enveloped in a group hug. He had to admit he needed it.


	4. Mercedes's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Momentum, Negligence, Orange, Pledge + bonus Festival, Ornament

Once the group hug broke up, Unique declared that “there were gonna be no more tears for New Directions, okay? Oh, Marley we need to do that as a duet next year!”

“If we have a next year,” Marley said. “But I’d be happy to be Barbra to your Donna anytime, glee club or no.”

“I feel awful for you guys,” said Tina. “I mean, for us seniors it was all going to be over anyway. We’re not really losing anything.” It was then she looked over at Mercedes. “You’ve been quiet.”

Mercedes sighed, and was nearly blushing. “I was just thinking about the current topic. Ever since Santana’s story, well it sort of triggered a memory that I really wanted to forget and now I can’t get it out of my head.” She shifted in her seat in discomfort. “I don’t wanna say it, but at the same time...you know how you get an earworm song stuck in your head, and the only way to get rid of it is to sing the whole thing?”

Kurt didn’t like the sound of that. “Um, Mercedes, what are you talking about?”

“Oh no, I wanna hear this!” Santana was downright giddy.

Mercedes looked at Kurt. “It was when your dad got the all-clear, during Stevie Wonder week. Remember all the drama I was having with my record label?”

_“I know it had to be hard to cancel your contract, but I’m still proud of you, for sticking to your guns.” Kurt said, his arm wrapped supportively around Mercedes’ shoulders. “We should celebrate!”_

_“You want to celebrate me possibly throwing away my future?”_

_“Don’t think of it like that. This isn’t throwing anything away, it’s...the first step for the_ real _Mercedes Jones to shine, not some record label’s invention. And each step from here on out will propel you into that forward_ _momentum,_ _until you have a row of Grammys on your shelf.”_

_“So, for this celebration, what are we talking? Please don’t say Breadstix…”_

_“I was thinking more like a good old fashioned sleepover. We’ll have popcorn, and do pedicures and facials, and we’ll watch the Atlanta Housewives reunion on Bravo and watch Andy Cohen squirm. How does that sound?”_

_“What about Blaine?”_

_“What about him? We’re not back together or anything.”_

_“And you weren’t back together at Mr. Schue’s non-wedding either and we know what happened then. I’ve seen you looking at him all longingly. You don’t want to spend some time with him before going back to New York?”_

_Kurt sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. “Mercedes, I’m not going to lie. My head says not to do it again, but my heart wants what it wants. Look, I know how you feel about sex and relationships and how they are tied. Blaine and I are...complicated, right now.”_

_“Well, complicated or not, you’re going to have to make a decision soon, If not for your sake at least for his.”_

_“How did I get such a smart, wise beautiful friend?” Kurt said. “Look, I solemnly_ _pledge_ _that by the end of the month, I’ll make a decision about me and Blaine. Happy?” Mercedes nodded. “Good. Now tell me what kind of masks I need to make for tonight...are we going with toning, pore-reducing, or deep moisture?”_

 _That evening, Mercedes showed up at the Hudmels door right on time; she had her mani-pedi kit with the newest_ _festival_ _-themed OPI collection, along with snacks and her overnight bag. Her phone had been buzzing with unanswered texts from her old management asking her to reconsider, but she was dutifully ignoring them. She would probably block their numbers in the morning._

 _The door was unlocked, so she let herself in, simply assuming either_ _negligence_ _or expectation on Kurt’s part. After all, Finn was back at the dorms, and she remembered something about Burt and Carole going to a celebratory dinner. The lights were on in the living room, and the Real Housewives looked to be queued up on the DVR._

 _It was then that she heard it; a thudding noise from upstairs. She hadn’t noticed any other cars in the driveway, and she did find it odd that the door had been left open for her. She hoped Kurt was okay; still, she picked up the first thing she thought could be used as a weapon (a “#1 Ohio State Fan”_ _ornamental_ _figurine), and went upstairs. She snuck down the hallway, where she saw Kurt’s door open._

_When she poked her head in, her eyes just about popped out of her skull; she was ass-to-face with Blaine’s bare behind (she knew it was Blaine from the heavily gelled-head). He had Kurt bent over the bed, pumping away, while Kurt’s hands twisted in the bed sheets above his head and he pressed his face into a pillow. At one point he turned his head to breathe (away from Mercedes, thank the Lord). “Oh God, Blaine! Keep fucking me like that, keep fucking my ass…”_

_“Fuck, Kurt, you’re so tight, God it’s so good!” Kurt appeared to reach underneath himself to...oh Lord she couldn’t watch this. She ran out, still hearing their voices fade the further she got. “Fuck keep going Blaine, I’m gonna cum, gonna...oh God,_ yes! _”_

 _She quickly ran back down the stairs, finally noticing the_ _orange_ _and white polo on the floor that should have been her first clue, and exited the house. It was only then she finally checked her phone and read two missed texts from Kurt:_

_Hey, silly me took an Ambien right after putting on my PJs!_

_Force of habit, will be down for the night, have to cancel, sorry!_

_Mercedes mumbled to herself, “Yeah, you were getting down all right.”_


	5. Blaine's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Quantity, Realism, Stay, Transaction + bonus Snowman, Paper, Gift, Candy Cane, Turkey, Tree

Kurt stomped out of the choir room, down the hall, out of the building, and into his rental car, slamming the driver’s side door hard. Blaine was right behind him, jumping into the passenger seat. Kurt took two deep, cleansing breaths as he sat in the parking lot, then: “I don’t think I have been that humiliated in my entire life, and that includes junior prom!”

“Kurt, at least she didn’t give any real details. She just said she caught us, she didn’t say how.”

“I can’t believe she never told me! If she did I could have explained to her what happened. That you came over to talk right after I had sent that text, and the Ambien made me all clingy and... _ you know _ , and one thing led to another.”

“Yes, and you warned me about the side effects, and then you gave me your full consent to follow through with anything you happened to start. I appreciated that by the way. Not just the permission to have sex part, but that you trusted me with that.”

“Yes, but still between that and Santana’s little stroll down memory lane the whole glee club thinks I’m some...some... _ sex maniac!” _

“I’m sure she didn’t really mean to. Santana goaded her, and it was like those episodes of  _ Law and Order _ where the witness finally breaks under pressure. I guarantee she feels worse about it than you do.”

Right on cue, Kurt received a text notification:

I’m SO sorry boo! I have no excuses. Please come back in!

You know how Santana is, she gets under your skin like a splinter

Kurt sighed. He tapped out a response:

Give me a few minutes. I just need to calm down so I don’t slap the hell out of Santana when I go back in there.

He put his phone up on his dash, and Blaine reached for his hand. “Told you. Now, while we’re alone, without any prying ears...do you want to hear  _ my _ Ambien story?”

“Ugh, Blaine, don’t…”

“No, no, it’s not an embarrassing sex story or anything, I promise!” Kurt relaxed in his seat.

“Okay, so what’s it about?”

“It’s about the first time I knew,  _ really _ knew that we would be okay in the end.”

_ Blaine couldn’t believe that he was in New York again. He felt downright awful that his first real experience with Kurt in the city had ended in disaster. But after their talk at Thanksgiving, and now that he was here with Burt, the one man who loved Kurt more than he did, he only hoped that he wouldn’t leave as brokenhearted as the last time. _

_ “Okay, Anderson, so here’s the deal,” Burt said. “I’m gonna head over to the loft, pick up the  _ _tree_ _ on the way there, then take Kurt to see the Rockettes. I hate to leave you here by yourself, you sure you’ll be okay?” _

_ “I’ll be fine, Burt, thank you. Besides my parents got me a ticket to see  _ A Christmas Story _. And I have enough cash for a taxi. I’ll be back here in time for your text.”  _

_ “And you know where the skating rink is?” _

_ “Yes,” Blaine confirmed. How could he forget, it was at the same location where everything fell apart. It wasn’t the Auglaize River, but maybe their new beginning would be at some other beginning’s end (he’s pretty sure there was a song about that). _

_ “Okay.” Burt looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. “Damnit I hate that I’m about to cheer him up and then break his heart in one night. But I couldn’t tell him this news over the phone. He deserves to hear it from the old man in person.” _

_ Burt was voicing the vague sense of deja vu Blaine already felt. He stood up and put his hand on Burt’s shoulder. “You said it was caught early, right? Assure him of that and it’ll be fine.” _

_ “And if it’s not, you’re my back-up plan.”  _

_ “I really don’t know…” _

_ Burt turned to face Blaine. “Hey, I know my kid. We talked after Thanksgiving, and he couldn’t stop saying how good it was to hear your voice. He wants to see you. I wouldn’t have brought you if I didn’t think so. Now give me a good luck hug before I go.” _

_ Hours later, Blaine was back in the hotel after the show and stage door, plus a quick double check of the skate rental at Bryant Park. He was sucking errantly on a  _ _candy cane_ _ , one of a small  _ _quantity_ _ handed out at the hotel front desk, when his phone buzzed, as Burt’s name flashed across the screen. _

_ “Hi Burt.” _

_ “He’s on his way. Good luck, kid.” _

_ *** _

_ The following day, on Christmas, Burt finalized the hotel check-out  _ _transaction_ _ , after confirming with Kurt that it was okay for Blaine to  _ _stay_ _ at the loft with them. Burt had even offered to go buy a  _ _turkey_ _ , but Kurt insisted it would take all day to prepare (in actuality, he still had bad flashbacks to Rachel and Brody from Thanksgiving) and what they had at the loft was fine. They spent the day inside, finishing the tree decorations, prepping all the dishes for dinner that evening, and watching the NBA games while everything was in the oven. After dinner,  _ _gift_ _ exchange, and the Doctor Who Christmas special (Blaine would certainly have nightmares about  _ _snowmen_ _ that night), they put all the used wrapping  _ _paper_ _ in the recycling and got ready for bed. _

_ Burt was the one to ask. “Kurt, what you taking there? You’re not coming down with anything, are you?” _

_ “No, Dad,” he said. “It’s Ambien, I take it to help me sleep.” _

_ “Since when do you have trouble sleeping?” _

_ Kurt glanced at Blaine, then looked down. “Um, since, eh, shortly after starting at Vogue.com. Crazy hours there, messed with my regular sleep schedule.” Blaine wasn’t convinced.  _

_ Burt frowned. “Well, be careful and don’t get dependent on it or anything, okay? I’ve read about some crazy side effects, like people getting up in the middle of the night and mowing their lawn, stuff like that.” _

_ “I promise, Dad, nothing weird will happen. Do you see any lawns around here?” _

_ After some discussion, it was decided Blaine would sleep on the couch. Burt had already slept in Rachel’s room one night and was addicted to her memory foam, and Blaine still had bad memories of the last time he and Kurt had shared a bed (mostly how he woke up to find Kurt’s side empty). With a good pile of pillows and blankets, they all settled in for the night. _

_ It was about an hour in that Blaine was jostled out of sleep by someone trying to get under the blankets with him. He blinked his eyes open, trying to adjust his vision to the miniscule amount of light coming from the window and realized it was Kurt. _

_ “Scoot over, ‘wanna snuggle,” he said in a weird tone of voice. Kurt was kneeling over him, his eyes still shut...was he sleepwalking? _

_ Blaine had heard somewhere that you shouldn’t try to wake someone who was sleepwalking unless there was an immediate danger. Still, Blaine didn’t quite know how to feel about this. Maybe he could still talk to him? “Kurt, maybe you should go back to your own bed.” _

_ “Bed too big, it swallows me whole, like a big whale. Now move over Rachel.” _

_ Oh. Kurt thought it was Rachel, that explained it. Damn himself for getting his hopes up; maybe it was time to accept the  _ _realism_ _ of him and Kurt remaining...just friends. Still, a sleepwalking Kurt was apparently a force to be reckoned with, so he adjusted to as far to the back of the couch as possible to make room for Kurt, who stretched out and flung his arm around Blaine’s waist. _

_ He thought they would go back to sleep and the talking would stop, except: “I miss Blaine so much.” _

_ It was slurred, and rambling, but Kurt continued, Blaine practically holding his breath. “I’m not mad he cheated anymore, just sad. I did exactly what he was afraid I would do, I let New York overwhelm me, with all these new friends and new job and new everything and new new new. I guess I have to take some of the blame.” _

_ It took all the will Blaine had to not sob at that. “No you don’t,” he barely whispered, afraid of waking him. “I should have been stronger. I should have befriended Sam and Tina and everyone sooner, I should have prepared myself better.” _

_ “I want to get back together with him someday is that stupid?” Kurt mumbled. “I know, Rachel, there’s a thousand men in New York, the Big Apple’s my oyster, blah blah blah. Maybe I’ll date someone here.” Blaine thought his heart would shatter right then. “But they’ll never be Blaine.” _

_ And it was then that the cracks in Blaine’s heart began to heal. “Blaine will always be the love of my life, Rach. I know you think you have it all figured out and are all mature because of Brody, but listen,” and he started to shake Blaine’s shoulder...right, still thinks he’s Rachel for some reason. “When you find true love it works out. We’ll work it out. We’ll...someday…” _

_ Kurt’s hand relaxed and fell, and soon he began to loudly snore. It was music to Blaine’s ears. _

“Wait a minute,” Kurt said, back in the car in the McKinley parking lot. “I woke up in my own bed that morning.”

“I know; when I woke up you were gone, and I had the couch to myself again. Burt and I were in enough of a rush to get to the airport, I didn’t get a chance to get you alone and talk about it. And then...there just didn’t seem like a right time, until so much was happening in our lives it was just another anecdote buried among so many others.”

“I’m sorry, Blaine. I don’t remember saying any of that. God, I must have said it to Rachel at some point though.” Kurt threw his head back against the headrest. “Ugh, she probably kept it from me because she loved the misguided idea of us being a couple of singles finding romance in New York, or something.”

“Well, she was right, in a way.” Kurt looked at Blaine quizzically. “We did find it. I thought the cuddling and the declaration of love was pretty romantic. Even if you don’t remember.” Blaine nodded back to the school building. “Ready to go back in? Learn the final fate of the New Directions?”

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine softly. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, opening the car door.


	6. Kurt’s Story (or how he realized he didn’t need the Ambien)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Understand, Vegetarian, Wire, Yoke + bonus Latkes, Chimney, Mistletoe, Stocking, Wreath, Nutcracker, Solstice, Carol, Gingerbread, Santa

_Six months later…_

“Kurt? Blaine? Latkes are ready!”

Rachel had finally figured out how to cook a few things without burning down the loft, nearly all of them vegetarian, of course. After a few attempts at latkes that were more like burnt potato pucks, she had been determined to get them right in time for the first night of Hanukkah.

Well, at least she finally got them right under the wire, in time for the last night.

“It looks great, Rachel,” Blaine said, taking a seat at the table as Rachel brought out the bowls of sour cream and applesauce, while flipping an extra light with her elbow. It was already getting darker earlier as they approached the Winter Solstice.

“And the smoke alarm only went off once!” Kurt sat next to his fiance and admired the plate of fried potato goodness Rachel set before them. “Wow, Rach, they actually _do_ look great!”

“And I will have you know they taste just as good, at least the one I bit into just now. Not quite like my dads’s but I followed the _Bon Appetit_ recipe to the letter!”

They all served themselves and tucked in, conversation slowing to murmurs of “oh wow these are good,” and “holy crap I’m impressed” (and maybe an unspoken thought of “I hope she didn’t give us food poisoning”).

Rachel looked across the table and suddenly jumped up, her fork clanging off her plate. “Is that the time? Shoot!” She abruptly left the table and ran to her room.

“Rach, what is it?” Kurt was concerned.

“Rupert is having a holiday party tonight, and I lost track of time! He wanted to have a big get-together before the Boston tryout starts this weekend,” she said, poking her head out of the curtain while pulling her sweater over her head.

“But you went through the trouble of actually making dinner for Hanukkah!” Kurt said.

“He’s not exactly observant...or now that I think about it even Jewish,” her voice softened as she went back behind the curtain.

Moments later Rachel came out of her room in cocktail attire, hopping on one foot as she slipped on her other shoe. “Can you put the food away for me? I’m already dressed and I don’t want to get oil on my clothes; I know you understand, right Kurt? And don’t wait up, from what some of the cast whose worked with him before told me these things can run pretty late. Bye!” And with that she slammed the door of the loft, the wreath they had just hung swinging precariously close to falling off.

With that, Kurt and Blaine decide to finish what was on their plates. They ate in comfortable silence, then got up to clean up and put the leftovers away. Kurt was humming cheerfully under his breath.

“Kurt? Why are you in such a good mood? Normally you’d be pissed you had to clean up after Rachel.”

Kurt smiled. “Because with Rachel out at a cast party that she just said can ‘run pretty late,’ and Sam spending the night at Artie’s dorm for an all-night Call of Duty tournament, we have the loft to ourselves.”

“Oh my God, _finally,”_ Blaine breathed and immediately surged into Kurt’s space for a heated kiss, dishes forgotten.

After several minutes of making out, Kurt was the first to come up for air. “So, what do you wanna do first?”

Blaine smirked. “Well, I know the original plan was to watch _Yentl_ with Rachel, but I know something that will be _much_ more fun to watch.”

***

“I can’t believe we’re watching cheesy Christmas porn,” Kurt mumbled into Blaine’s shoulder. They were sitting on their bed in their underwear, the laptop sitting on their outstretched thighs, logged onto PornHub and clicking on a link for _Twas the Night Before XXXmas._ It had either been this or a parody of _A Christmas Carol,_ but the giant breasts on the thumbnail for that one were a red flag. As the video began to play, the narration revealed itself to be downright cringeworthy.

_Twas the night before Triple X-mas, and all through the frat_  
_Not a creature was fucking, not even a gym rat_  
_Stockings were hung on their chimneys with care,_  
_In hopes that Stud Nicholas soon would be there_

“Yeeeaaaah, those aren’t chimneys those stockings are hanging from,” Kurt said.

“True, but they are ‘hung,’ so to speak.”

_The pledges cocks’ nestled snug in their bros’ behinds,_  
_And visions of go-go boys danced in their minds;_  
_While Devon in his harness, and I with my flog,_  
_Had just settled in with a lubed up Yule log._

“Why does that Devon guy look familiar?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Blaine said. “But that other one is Angel, I’ve seen him in some stuff. Reminds me of you...but not as hot.”

_When out on the lawn, I heard the crash of a truck_  
_And I sprang from the bed and yelled “what the fuck?”_  
_Away to the door I ran with my nutcracker,_  
_Ready to dominate my coming attacker._

“Wow, they are trying to fit in every kind of Christmas pun, aren’t they?” Kurt snarked. The script was both atrocious and somewhat clever, but no one watched this stuff for the script.

_A full moon reflected off the new-fallen snow_  
_And lit up another “moon” tangled in mistletoe,_  
_Face down, ass up, was a figure so amazing,_  
_It made my cock harder and got Devon salivating._

_When he finally arose and I saw his huge dick,_  
_I knew in a moment it must be Stud Nick._  
_The full view of his body; I very nearly came,_  
_And then he started to call out my bros by name;_

_"Yo, Brayden, hey, Cayden, hey, Topher and Brent!_  
_Get on Cody and Caleb, and on Dylan and Clint!_  
_Get down here this minute, if you want my advice;_  
_I’ll yoke you together and see who’s naughty or nice!"_

“Plot twist--they’re all naughty. Very, _very_ naughty,” Blaine drawled out to Kurt. But Kurt had stopped listening to the dialogue, which was honestly some of the worst writing he’d ever heard, even for a porn. But his dick...well his dick apparently had no taste. In spite of himself and the awful script he was getting extremely turned on, and his cock was swelling in his briefs. He pressed the heel of his hand to his groin, which apparently did not go unnoticed by Blaine.

“Kurt...is that what I think it is?” Blaine asked in a voice that Kurt knew meant he knew damn well what it was.

“Shut up, like your cock hasn’t been jostling the other side of the laptop.” Kurt picked up the device and moved it over, the beginnings of a Yuletide orgy emanating from its speakers. He crossed his leg over and nestled himself in Blaine’s lap, their cocks rubbing against each other through their briefs. “So, what are you in the mood for tonight?”

“I can’t really decide,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt’s ass with both hands as Kurt gently rocked against him. “Is it greedy that I want a little of both?”

Kurt’s lips curled up, as he leaned in for a kiss and smiled against Blaine’s mouth. “I think someone has actually been very good this year. You may have landed on the Naughty List last year, but this time you are _so_ on the Nice List. So yes, you can have both...if I get to choose who goes first. And I really wanna fuck you right now.”

“Yes, Santa,” Blaine said, reaching over to get the lube from the nightstand as Kurt put the laptop back on the desk. When he turned around Blaine had already stripped off his underwear, and was on his back with his legs spread. He looked so wanton Kurt thought he’d cum right there. Blaine offered up the lube, a silent ‘I’ll let you do the honors’ unspoken between them.

Kurt warmed the lube between his fingers and then circled Blaine’s hole with them, reveling in Blaine’s little vocalizations...his moans, his sighs, that little hitch and yelp when Kurt hit a particularly sensitive spot. His cock practically bounced in delight at those sounds, and soon Kurt’s mouth was watering. He leaned in, his thumbs holding Blaine open, and pressed in his tongue, breathing Blaine in through all five of his senses...tasting him, smelling him, the sight of his beautiful dark cock bobbling above him, the feel of his hole fluttering around his tongue, the sound of Blaine calling Kurt’s name, begging for him to fuck him already.

Kurt rose to his knees and lubed up his cock, then began to press into the tight heat of Blaine, assisted with lube and his own saliva. About midway in, he heard: “yeah, baby, shove that yule log up my chimney.”

Kurt stopped, to Blaine’s vocal protest. “What the fuck was that? _Please_ tell me that was the video.”

“Um, yes?” Blaine said, his voice betraying his desperate need. Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, no. It was an improvisation?”

“Let’s leave the Christmas puns to the professionals,” Kurt said, feigning a semblance of control, as Blaine squeezed around his cock. “I just want to fuck my fiance’s brains out.” With that he plunged the last few inches into Blaine, drawing out a gasp followed by a long, guttural moan.

“Uh, God, move,” Blaine said, pushing at Kurt’s ass with the heels of his feet as his legs were wrapped around him. “I just wanna feel you for days after this.” Kurt rocked into him slowly at first, then steadily picked up speed as the pressure began to build deep down in his groin. They fucked like this for a good while, Blaine pulling at the sheets and at Kurt until he was brushing that spot deep inside him, more and more the sparks became flames, until--”oh God...oh God...K-Kuuuuuuurt! Ahhhhhh…” Blaine was cumming hard, jerking beneath Kurt as spurts of white shot across his belly and his ass clutched Kurt’s cock like a vise.

“Oh my God, Blaine!” Kurt shouted, as Blaine’s grip pulled his orgasm out of him, and he spilled into Blaine, holding tight against him and grinding into him until he was completely spent. He slipped out, smiling at the little bit of cum dribbling out of Blaine’s hole for a moment, before going to get a wet washcloth to clean them both up. The video had long ended and something called “Fisty the Snowman” threatened to cue up, so he closed the laptop.

When he came back he expected to find Blaine sleeping, but instead was surprised to see Blaine lazily stroking his cock to hardness again. “Blaine, already?”

“I told you I was greedy, Kurt,” he said, crooking his finger in a _come hither_ gesture with his unoccupied hand. “Now come over here, it’s your turn.”

***

The next morning, Kurt woke up, feeling sore in all the right places but also refreshed, like it was the best, deepest, most solid sleep he had gotten in ages, since even high school. He looked over to his nightstand at the clock and realized he had slept exactly eight hours.

Blaine snuffled next to him and turned over, his eyes blinking open. “Good morning.”

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Kurt smiled, kissing Blaine on the forehead. “Want coffee?”

“We always want coffee,” Blaine said, starting to get up.

“No, you stay, I’ll make it. Funny enough though, I don’t feel like I need it this morning.”

Blaine sat up at that. “Kurt Hummel, not needing coffee? I am in the right universe, right?”

“Yes, you are,” Kurt smiled. “I’m gonna go make your coffee and then get dressed, I have a quick errand to run.”

And after he showered, and dressed, and kissed coffee-flavored lips with a whispered “See you later, love you,” he picked up the rest of the Ambien that had been gathering dust in the bathroom. He then walked down to Duane Reade to drop it in the “Safe Medication Disposal” kiosk, picking up a box of gingerbread cronuts for Blaine on the way back.

Kurt didn’t need the Ambien anymore. Having Blaine back in his arms and his bed was all he needed for a restful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this: http://todaydreambelieversfic.tumblr.com/post/180487672867
> 
> To Daydream Believers (spaceorphan18, pretty sure) posted the reference pictures to Tumblr followed by the following tags:
> 
> #i need a 5 times Kurt took ambien for his insomnia and one time he didn’t have to and there should be weird sex #thanks #lets just say this is a prompt


End file.
